


Monster

by Slaskia



Series: Chronicles [3]
Category: Halo
Genre: Cannibalism, Exile, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-24
Updated: 2010-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaskia/pseuds/Slaskia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Sangheili returns to the place he once called home after a harsh winter, only to cross more than one line of acceptable behavior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster

The three suns of Sangheilos were high above him, yet he barely felt their warming rays, his body still chilled from the torrential rains of the past couple of days; the rains that signaled the start of spring in this cold region of the planet.  Soon the _ut’su_ will begin to foal and their winter coats shorn and made into yarn.  Trade routes, closed due to the winter storms would reopen and needed supplies would brought in once more.  Schools and crafting halls ran year round, and the Tal’sora patrolled the boarders and trained others in the art of combat.  All those things were fond memories. That’s all they were, memories, for he was no longer part of those activities, even indirectly. 

He was an exile. 

A shaky hand reached up and brushed against the scarred skin of his neck, where the Mark of Exile lay.  It was put there by those he once considered kin, friends and comrades.  But he had committed a grievous sin and was deemed unfit to remain in this society.  He remembered screaming as the brand was stamped upon his neck, his former friends and comrades holding him down, and then passing out from the pain.  

When he woke up, he was on the edge of their borders, with nothing but a single winter coat on his back. A pair of Tal’sora was close by, watching him, the hate in their eyes clear.  They made it clear he was no longer welcome and they considered him barely worthy of the clothing upon his back.  He was chased away from the border and out into the untamed no man’s land that no keep owned.  Forced to face the coming winter alone. 

Most faced with his situation opted to end their lives rather than to suffer.  A few, choice to seek out redemption in some way, usually by attempting to join one of the few nomadic tribes left in the region. However, few such tribes would accept such _filth_ cast out from a keep and many such attempts ended in their death.  A handful, such as he, simply struggled to survive for as long as they could, for reasons even they barely understood, wandering the wilds aimlessly and without purpose beyond surviving.  And now his wanderings had taken him full circle, back to the keep that had cast him out. 

He had been a champion once, a star, and a role model.  A man every rookie Tal’sora strived to be.  But he had let that fame and power go to his head.  He felt he was entitled to have whatever he wanted and he took it.  There were warnings from his peers to cease his arrogance and pride: that he was no better than anyone else in the end, but he had ignored them. 

Then came the day he saw her.  A young female, just into her adult years, had caught his eye.  He attempted to woo her, but she was not swayed by his charms and refused him.  His pride hurt, he forced himself upon her and that was his undoing.  

The female had been quick to report him to the Tal’sora after the deed was done and he was arrested.  Before the keep’s council, he tried to plead his case, that he deserved a female such as her.  He was shot down, told that while forcefully taking a female was more accepted in other keeps, it was not accepted in _their_ keep.  There was no room in their keep for the mentality he bore, so they saw him unfit to remain in their keep. 

Thus his current situation, shivering and starving on the border, his coat worn and tattered.  It was a miracle he had made it through the harsh winter, but how he was desperate for food.  He crossed into the keep’s territory, his eyes watching the horizon for signs of the patrolling Tal’sora, heading for what he knew to be the market place.  The first shipments should have already arrived and he hoped to find food among the cargo.  The thought of attempting to steal an _ut’su_ foal did not even cross his mind, for he already know the herds would be too closely watched by the Ses’sora. 

He had to hide more than once, when he heard or saw other Sangheili nearby, but he made it to his goal:  a row of transports sitting outside one of the main warehouses.  When no one was nearby, he rushed toward the first and started rummaging through the contents.  He found only hides within, hides of a species from the south, likely from another herding keep: it wasn’t food though, so he moved on. 

Second transport had herbs and grain.  Third, reeds and grasses.  By the time he reached the fourth and final transport, he was getting frantic.  There had to be food he could eat in this one! No, he only found fabric and wood. 

He wailed softly in frustration.  This risky excursion had been for nothing and he would have been better off trying to catch the rats out in the fields.  Now came the task of trying to get back out of the keep territory without being seen, the hunger pangs still throbbing in his stomach. 

“Hey!” A voice called out as he stepped out of the transport.  He turned to see a young boy, only months from entering adolescence.  “What are you doing?  You are not supposed to be….”  

The boy’s eyes widened and he knew why.  The child had seen the Mark and at any second he would call out for the Tal’sora.  Acting out of both instinct and desperation, he silenced the boy by ripping out his throat before he could utter another word. 

For a moment he hovered over the corpse, stunned at what he had done.  Why couldn’t he have just knocked the boy out?  Killing the boy was senseless and worse he did it with his fangs, not his hands…. 

And yet the taste of the boy’s blood in his mouth set his hunger aflame, making it unbearable.  In an act of desperation, he committed one of the most shameful, barbaric acts a Sangheili could do.  He started to consume the boy’s flesh, finding it to be most tender and delicious thing he had ever eaten.  The civil part of his mind hoped that was just because he was so hungry…. 

There was another shout, one that forced him to finally raise his head from the gory feast.  Tal’sora…And they were coming his way at full speed.  Knowing he would not win a fight against them, he ran.  If he could just make to the forest on the boarder…. 

It would be a fruitless hope.  Pain erupted in his lower back and at the same moment his legs stopped working.  He hit the wet earth hard, dazing him for a moment.  By the time his senses had returned, the Tal’sora, a pair of them, were upon him.  He reached back and tried to pull the spear out of his spine, but it was stuck fast.  There was nothing he could defend himself with and he knew judgment would be quick. 

One of the Tal’sora roughly kicked him onto his side, and the other thrust his spear into the base of his neck.  His cries became only a gurgle when the Tal’sora flipped the spearhead upward, cutting his neck open from the base to his mandibles.  Now his own blood was flooding into his lungs, slowly drowning him as the two Tal’sora just watched. 

“What is going on here?” a new voice asked.  He was barely able to focus upon the dark figure approaching the gory scene. 

“An exile,” one of the Tal’sora replied.  “Trespassed and killed a young boy, then started consuming his very flesh.” 

The dark figure snorted with disgust.  “He deserves such a slow death then.”  In his fading sight, he saw the figure turn toward another that was at his side.  The dark one was a stranger, a visitor to the keep, but the other…He knew that man.  He was kin…. 

“Did you know this one?” The dark one asked. 

“No.” The other said, a hint of sorrow in his voice.  As the last of his life faded away, he heard his once brother add: “All I see is a monster.”


End file.
